


Trapped

by DeSardines



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Cant make up my mind abt first person or 3rd person, F/F, I have to do everything myself around here, I haven't written anything in 14 years be gentle, I've been waiting in vain for vine bondage Síora, One Shot, Porn, You're Welcome, fluff?, lovey dovey porn, one shot kinda sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeSardines/pseuds/DeSardines
Summary: Three years since the events of the game, De Sardet has fully embraced her heritage, choosing to live with Síora in Vedrhais.
Relationships: De Sardet/Siora (GreedFall)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> (Be the content creator u wish to see in the world)  
I've been WAITING for bondagedom!Síora ft. vine magic bc I mean come on???? of COURSE wlw be obsessed w bondage tops (esp my beautiful baby siora) 
> 
> I havent written since sophomore year of HIGH SCHOOL (14yrs) pls be gentle
> 
> I cant decide on first or 3rd person bc I've been writing while sleep-addled at 2am so leave critiques for me? 
> 
> might continue if there's interest but I'm not exactly good at this sort of thing so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Enjoy? I hope?

De Sardet had been in her fair share of captive situations here on Tír Fradí while doing the bidding of the continent, but had never been restrained quite so roughly–so lovingly– as she was to the wall in Síora’s hutch.

Ever since the Battle of the Red Spears, De Sardet couldn’t stop thinking about the vines wrapping around that unknown soldier, immobilizing him against the stump of a felled tree. She had to push it aside, grief and understanding flooding her in a deluge at the loss of Bladnid, reminding her of her own goodbyes on the continent, comforting her new friend. Síora wielding the power of the island itself forever etched into the back of her mind and, admittedly, taking over her rational thought on more than one world-altering occasion. How special Síora would become to her in the years that followed. 

It’s hard to believe how long ago that was, De Sardet muses. A small smile catching on her face as a shiver trails down her spine. At long last, she was content. Blissful.

With the malichor eradicated and the world on the mend, the friends she made along the way trickled back to the continent, or in the case of Vasco and her Naut brothers, the high seas. Petrus remains, bonding with Slán over your mother. And you….. you remain with your love. Your minudhanem. Your Síora.

With De Sardet’s heritage finally fully revealed to her, she could let go of the continent. She missed the woman who raised her, of course, and her dear Constantin. But this was her home. It had always been.

A quick, sharp SNAP brings you out of your reverie; how could you have been distracted, with the sight in front of you? While you are fully restrained, arms and legs bound together, flush against the frigid stone; Síora stands tall, soft vines accentuating the curves of her waist, her thighs, her breasts; wrapped for you akin to a winter present. A very beautiful, powerful present that glances a glinting, hungry smirk at your face as a vine slowly traces up your neck.

“Tsk, tsk, who has been such a difficult Renaigse for her mál?” a whisper in your ear, thick as honey with desire, tempered by the mirth dancing in her eyes as you involuntarily shudder under her touch.  
Siora kisses you hard, but then softens, melting into your mouth like the sweet chocolates you savored in your days at court. Only this leads to a treat oh so much sweeter. The thought makes you tremble; the warm, soft hand cupping your breast keeps you trembling. The heat of her hand contrasts to the ice cold stone on your back, raising gooseflesh and hardening your nub under her minstrations. Suddenly wet heat envelopes the unattended nipple; sharp teeth grazing maddeningly slow against the sensitive skin. You cant help but moan deeply, the sensation giving way to nothing but primal impulses. Lust begins to cloud your vision as she returns to take your lips into hers.

Her hands cup your face gently as she deepens the kiss, a sharp contrast to the commanding persona she is playing for you. Your world. Your heart. You feel the love you share pouring through her, through her kiss, your bond, her soft hands. You jerk, however, when you feel a vine snaking up the inside of your leg.

“S-Síora!” De sardet gasps between kisses. You feel her smile against your mouth, mischeviously, placing a small fabric strip over your eyes. You squeeze her hand, the sudden blindness completely foreign to you. A seriousness overshadows her voice. “Are you hurt? Are you alright?” You’re better than alright; warmth pools between your legs as you nod, lip between your teeth, stifling a deep groan.

She chuckles against your skin at that, longing lowering her voice to that of satin, her breath tickling your neck. “Good. Do not give up on me so easily, minundanhem. You are not the broken Lions or mind-shakers, cowering at my feet,” The thought of your wife towering over the people who would do her harm, her heel in their backs, sends a fresh jolt down your back and a new trail of wetness down your thigh. This, however, does not go unnoticed.

"My little Lugeid Blau might well leave for the Nauts, with how the ocean crashes between her legs," a light giggle accompanies her downward travels, and you hear a sharp intake of breath--your own--as a finger softly trails along streaks of desire covering your thigh. Her face is maddeningly close to where you want--no, NEED-- her to be; breath hot against your moist skin, nose tickling your auburn curls. A pained gasp escapes your lips as she denies you, toys with you, tries to break you. 

Eyes still covered, De Sardet receives no warning as Síora's warm tongue gently, reverently swipes one long swath along her wet core. "Gh-!!!!!!" A loud gasp is all De Sardet can manage before she hears a sudden rustle, feeling her lover back at face height, a piece of smooth stone holding your mouth hostage, and a knot being tied around your jaw. 

"No words. I will draw your most sweet noises from your lips, my heart."


End file.
